If the Fates Allow
by Kei-chan1
Summary: A supernatural force is killing students at a local university. Why does an Irish exchange student feel their deaths? And what connection does she have with Gabriel? An A/U, rated R for language and gore.


Disclaimer:  I don't own the characters of Witchblade, but if I had my chance, I'd buy Gabriel.  **grin**

Author's Notes:  **waves** Hey all you Witchblade fic readers in the fanfiction universe!  This is something that I came across today, and, seeing that it's really not that bad of a fic, I thought I'd post, see what ya'll thought.  I'm really pissed off about TNT taking away my weekly dose of eye-candy and ass kicking.  But anyway, this is a work in progress (as everything I write is)... hope you enjoy it. And, by the way, I created a fictitious university.... just because it was easy. :P

Summary:  A supernatural force is killing local university students.  Why can an Irish exchange student feel the deaths?  And what's her connection with Gabriel? An A/U fic.

If the Fates Allow 

By:  Kei-chan

She sat alone.  The people passed her by, none giving her a second glance.  Time seemed to pass slowly, but she vaguely noticed.  She sat at the tiny round table, focused on her thoughts, on the dark, lonely sadness that started creeping into her mind.  Her fellow students went by unnoticed, some going to lunch, some going to classes, some meeting their friends.  They ignored her as she ignored them.  Usually, she was content in her solitude, happy even, to be alone doing what she wanted, for herself.  It was different now, though.  Now there was that other thing, the thing that wouldn't allow her the happiness she once felt.

In her mind, she was in a battle with it.  She tried ignoring it, but it persisted.  She tried to destroy it, but it only fought with more vigor.  Still, she waged her own war one the advances of desperation that pushed through her mind like a dark, ominous cloud.

It would not stop coming, and finally, knowing it was useless to fight it anymore, she accepted it.  It came crashing down on her, engulfing her mind in a fog, and sending a jolt of shock through her.  Her usual happiness ebbed away, now a lost, nearly forgotten memory, and replaced it with a sadness and desperation that nearly brought tears to her eyes.  Her shoulders slumped, and she sat, still at that table in the Student Union Building at her university, her eyebrows furrowed in thought as she vainly tried to figure out what was going on.

To anyone who cared to notice, she looked nothing more than a normal student, sitting alone moping.  None knew the strange, foreboding thoughts that were running through her head.  Voices, whispering her name, cut through the fog in her mind, filled her ears.

They started quiet, almost a whisper, so she could think they weren't there.  Then the voices started to rise in volume.  Louder and louder, they became a thunderous roar, ringing in her ears.  She clapped her hands over her ears, dropped her head on the table.  The voices could not be muted, and instead, they got louder.  It sounded now much like a 747 jet was in her head.

A pain suddenly ripped into her stomach.  The voices stopped just as abruptly, and her hands flew to her stomach.  It felt as if fire was burning a hole through her abdomen.  It twisted this way and that, causing her to fall from the chair with a moan, and writhe on the floor.

The students began to notice her now, stopping in front of her, whispering to one another and asking if they should do something.  No one stepped forward though, and the pain got worse.

The fire twisted again, and she cried out, a low wail starting in her throat and rising out her open mouth in a desperate howl of pain.

There was a commotion in the crowd, and someone broke through the wall of students.

"Jesus Christ," he muttered.  He rushed to the girl, knelt by her.  She rolled around on the floor, whimpering.

"Hey, can you hear me?" he asked, gripping her shoulders.

As soon as his hands touched her, the fog in her mind cleared, and she knew exactly what was happening.

"Dying," she gasped, her thick Irish accented voice reaching his ears in a harsh whisper.  "S-someone's dying."  The fire twisted yet again and she curled into a ball.

"What?  What do you mean?"

She coughed, and her body was thrown into convulsions.  Her eyes rolled back in her head, and he was shocked to see tears streaming down her face.  He tried to hold her still, but the convulsions were in their glory, and her body was thrashed around.

And then, as quickly as it all seemed to happen, it was over.  She went limp, and her eyes drifted close, fixed on his face.  He stared at her for a moment, then put two trembling fingers under her jaw.  He held his breath as he felt for a pulse, and when it thudded against his fingers, strong and steady, he exhaled.

The complete and eerie silence of the building was suddenly pierced by a blood-curdling scream coming from the cafeteria.

Everyone turned as a young woman came running out the doors, screaming.  "He's dead!  He'd dead!" she wailed.  "David's dead!"

The crowd rushed into the cafeteria, after someone got smart and called 9-1-1 on their cell phone.  He was left alone with the unconscious girl.  He looked back at her, surprise clearly etched on his face.  _"Someone's dying,"_ she had said.

"What the hell-?"

------

Sara Pezzini was sleeping.  The shrill ringing of her cell phone broke into her rest, woke her up with a start.  She grasped for her phone, spoke groggily into it.

"Pezzini here."

"Hey Pez."

Sara yawned.  "What's up, Danny?"

She heard her partner snort.  "You're not gonna believe this one.  Troughington U. Student Union."

"I'm on my way."

She hit the off button on her phone, fell back into the bed.  _Let's go, Pez, time to work._  Taking a deep breath, she threw off the sheet, jumped to her feet.  Throwing pants, a white sleeveless shirt, and her socks on, she then shrugged into her leather jacket, thrust her feet into her boots, and grabbed the keys to her bike.  She was on the road in no time, traveling up the hill to the university.

It wasn't hard to find the Union.  _Just follow the flock of geese,_ Sara thought.  She pulled up in front of the door, flashed her badge to the uniformed cop who tried to stop her.  Danny Woo and Jake McCarty were already there, talking and shaking their heads.  Jake saw Sara on her way in and nudged Danny.

"What's up guys?" Sara greeted.

Jake and Danny looked at each other.  "It's weird, Pez," Jake said.

"When isn't it?"

Danny turned serious, dark eyes on her.  "No, Pez.  It's really weird."

"Show me."

They led her through the doors to the cafeteria, where the body of a young man still lay, his eyes wide and his mouth hanging open, the look of horror forever etched on his youthful face.  He was laying on his back, arms stretched above his head.  He would have looked like he simply died from a heart attack if not for the huge gaping hole in his stomach.  His intestines were strewn to the side, drooping onto the cafeteria floor.  There was a puddle of blood larger than his body on the floor.

"Jesus..." Sara exclaimed.  She stared at the hole in the boy's stomach, then turned back to the guys.  "What did this?"

Jake shrugged.  "That would be the weird part."

Danny nodded.  "Girlfriend was sitting across from him, eating lunch.  He started having stomach pains..."

"...then this," Jake finished, indicating the wound.

Sara stood, regarded the two guys wearily.  "It just happened?"

This time Jake nodded.  "It gets more weird."

"How can it get more weird than this?"

The young rookie led her out of the cafeteria into the hall.  "There was a girl sitting here," he said, pointing to a table and chair along the metal wall of the balcony.  "She started having her own stomach pains.  The stupid crowd just watched her until someone finally shoved through to help.  She told him that someone was dying, then she lost consciousness.  A few seconds later, the kid in the cafe was dead."

Sara's eyes widened.  "You mean to tell me she _felt_ his death?"

"Yeah, Pez, she did," came a voice from behind her.  She spun around, saw Gabriel Bowman approaching.  His hair was messier than usual, and he looked tired.

"Gabriel?  What are you doing here?"

Jake looked between the two of him.  He didn't know that they knew each other.  "Um, Mr. Bowman here was the one who tried to help the girl."

Sara smiled.  "Thanks Jake."

She and Gabriel walked away from the immediate scene, away from the cops and the photographers.  "What's up?"

Gabriel's face was dead serious.  "Pez, you need to listen to me.  What happened here today was something of super-natural means."

Sara raised an eyebrow at her young friend.  "Super-natural?"

The dark-haired Gabriel reached out and grabbed her hand.  He raised to the light, the witchblade glinting.  "Pez, you wear an ancient weapon with powers that make it change into a gauntlet.  This really shouldn't be much of a stretch for you."

He was right, as usual.  "Okay," she conceded.  "So, what happened?"

"Somehow, that girl felt the death of that kid.  That kid was definitely killed from the hole, but what made that hole?  Something that no one could see skewered that boy.  And something else," he added.  "When I touched her shoulder, I felt something.  It was some kind of connection.  I don't know, I can't explain it."

Sara shook her head.  "Gabriel, you're making as much as sense as this case.  Why don't we talk to the girl?"

He flashed her one of his trademark grins.  "Hey, good idea, detective," he remarked.

------

When they arrived at the hospital, Gabriel went straight to the girl's room, while Pez stayed to speak with the doctor.

He felt drawn, somehow, to her.  He'd felt it then, too, when he went to help her.  Touching her shoulder had given him sense of recognition and familiarity.  Knowing that Sara's life now also spanned hundreds of years due to the witchblade, Gabriel had a firm belief in reincarnation.  As he crossed the floor to her bed, a small smile graced his lips.  She was quite beautiful, he realized.  Her hair was cut short, with the top spiky, and a natural dark red color.  He remembered her eyes, though they were cloudy with pain, were the color of the sky close to sunset, a dark, indigo blue.  She didn't seem to be very tall, but she was solid, built, much like an athlete.

She still sound asleep, so he pulled up a chair and sat near her bed, resisting the almost overwhelming urge to take her hand.  Instead, he leaned forward, studying her face as an artist would study a painting.  She had high, defined cheekbones, a straight nose, and full, lush lips.  Her eyes were framed by long, thick lashes, and her well-kept eyebrows had a natural high arch.  The pale, creamy look of her skin, along with her red hair and blue eyes was a give-away to her obvious Irish roots.

Gabriel tore his eyes away from the girl when he heard the thudding of Pez's boots in the doorway.  "What's the doctor say?" he asked.

"Said there's nothing physically wrong with her.  They're just waiting for her to wake up."

Gabriel turned back to the bed.  "Looks like we won't have to wait long."

Sara looked at the girl, saw she was, indeed, waking up.

She stirred, brought her hands up to run them through her hair, then opened her eyes.  They drifted around the room, taking in where she was, until her gaze settled on Gabriel.

"You," she said.  "You helped me."

Gabriel grinned.  "Gabriel Bowman."

"I'm Saoirse.  Saoirse Kennedy," she told him, a weak smile crossing her face.  "Damn, what a crazy mind-fuck."

Sara had taken a few more steps into the room, now stood just at the foot of the bed.  "I'm Detective Sara Pezzini."

Saoirse's face grew serious.  "Am I in some kind of trouble?"

"No, no," Sara said.  "I just have to ask you some questions about what happened."

A light chuckle filled the room.  "I'll do my best, but _I'm_ not even sure what happened."

"Fair enough," the police officer replied.  She took a seat on the other side of the bed.  "Do you feel all right?"

"Actually," Saoirse said.  "I feel great."

"Good.  Um, what can you tell me about today?"

Saoirse cleared her throat.  "Well, I was sitting by meself, which is what I usually do at the University.  I've just recently came here, and I don't know anyone.  Anyway, I was just sitting there, mulling over a class, when this terrible sadness and desperation started to drift into my head.  It was weird, ya know, because usually, when you're sad, you feel it in your heart.  I was confused, because it didn't feel like my sadness."

"Your sadness?" echoed Sara.

"Aye, it felt like it was coming from somewhere else.  Anyway, I started hearing voices then.  They were whispering my name, but they got louder and louder.  It was so loud I couldn't stand it.  Then, they stopped all of a sudden, and the pain in me stomach hit."  A flicker pain came across her face as she remembered.  "It was horrible, like someone had shoved a fuckin' shovel into me stomach and was twisting it."

"That's when I showed up, Pez," Gabriel interjected.

"Aye," Saoirse agreed, a warm smile on her face.  "It was so strange, because as soon as Gabriel touched me, it was like I knew him somehow, and everything became clear.  I was feeling the death of someone.  I didn't know who, I just _knew_ it was happening."

Sara nodded sadly.  "David Thomas."

Saoirse gasped.  "He was in one of my classes.  He was a nice guy."  She was silent, then looked desperately at Sara.  "Why did I feel it?" she asked in whisper.

"I don't know," Sara answered, feel a wave of sorrow for this girl.  "But I'm going to do what I can to find out?"

"You'll find out," Saoirse said, eyes shining.  "You wield the Witchblade.  If anyone can figure out what's going on, you can."

Gabriel turned shocked eyes on Saoirse.  Sara was stumbling words, but, finding none, looked to Gabriel.  "How did you know?" he asked.

Saoirse looked from Gabriel, to Sara, and back, then started to laugh.  "You really don't know?  The Witchblade is legendary where I come from, and everyone knows that it exists.  There are paintings in every fuckin' home, the elders tell stories, it's a big thing."

Gabriel shook his head.  "I should have known."

"Should have known what?" the young girl inquired.

"All my research on the Witchblade came from Ireland.  So, I should have known."

There was a moment of silence in the room.  Sara's mind was spinning.  This girl was the only one who knew she wore the Witchblade without being told what it was.  Gabriel knew, but since he was now a trusted friend, it didn't quite mean the same.  Finally, Saoirse sighed heavily.  "So, when do I get the hell out of here?"

"I'll go find the doctor," Sara said, turning to leave the room.

Once she was gone, Saoirse narrowed her eyes at Gabriel, seemed to study him.  Her staring made him uncomfortable.  "Um, what?" he asked.

"I'm just trying to figure out what this whole fuckin' connection thing between us is about," she said.

Gabriel laughed at her brazen, unabashed language and attitude.  It was different, talking to someone who held nothing back.  "Hmm," he agreed.  "It's definitely very weird."  He saw a flash of metal on her neck, looked closer.  It was necklace, one he hadn't noticed was there.  A silver chain hung around her neck, with a medallion attached to it that looked incredibly familiar to Gabriel.  It was nearly two inches in diameter, with a Celtic symbol in it, as well as a bright, shiny emerald off-center.

Sara interrupted his studying of the necklace by coming back into the room, doctor in tow.  He walked up to Saoirse, gazed at her skeptically.  "How do you feel?"

"Fine," she answered.  "Can I go now?"

His tight smile told her that she should shut up and let the man do his job, but she was itching to get out of the hospital.  They creeped her out, with their smells of anesthetic and death, and the sad aura she was getting from it.

The doctor did a routine checkup; vital signs and the like, and finally, he looked at her chart.  "Okay, Miss Kennedy, you're free to go."

Saoirse grinned.  "Thanks doc," she said.  She slid out of the bed, grabbed her own clothes and disappeared into the bathroom to change.

"Well?" asked Gabriel when the door was shut.

"I don't know," Sara answered.  "I mean, I believe her, but how am I going to find a supernatural killer?"

Gabriel shrugged.  "I dunno, Pez, but come on, she knew you wore the Blade."

"Yeah," she agreed.

The bathroom door opened, and Saoirse emerged, dressed and with a smile on her face.  "That feels so much better."

"Saoirse, where are you staying?" Sara asked.

The girl's smile faded.  "In an apartment with a couple of bitches.  I try to be there as little as possible."

Gabriel and Sara exchanged glances.  Finally, Gabriel nodded.  "Why don't you get some stuff from your apartment and stay with Gabriel for a while?"

"Really?  You don't mind?"

He shook his head.  "Nah, I got plenty of room, as long as you don't mind a ton of rare artifacts lying around."

"No way, that's kickass!"

The three walked out of the hospital, Saoirse incredibly grateful to be out of there.  She crawled in a cab, Gabriel going in behind her.  Sara walked up to the cab, leaned down to the window.  "You guys behave yourselves, I'll be over after I do some research."

"Thanks Detective Pezzini," Saoirse said.

Sara smiled.  "Your welcome, and it's Pez."

TBC.... ^__^


End file.
